


Accidental Domesticity

by erstwhiled



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 20:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erstwhiled/pseuds/erstwhiled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh god, he just definitely accidentally asked his boyfriend to move in with him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidental Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> General disclaimer about not owning anything or anyone and how this is a work of fiction and like if you show this to anyone directly involved with these people you are a dick :)

_House hunting is hard :(_

**Just move in with me**

Nick stares at his phone and traitorous fingers in horror because, oh god, he just definitely accidentally asked his boyfriend to move in with him. This is what happens, he thinks, when you try to eat toast and drink coffee with the same hand while building a playlist of all the songs you know containing the word ‘tiger’ in your head.

He sits back, trying to drop his phone onto the desk but his fingers won’t release the death grip they’ve taken up on the thing. Obviously the phone isn’t leaving his hand until Harry texts back with a polite but definite ‘no’; because, although they’ve been together for over a year now and Harry spends at least 90% of his non-work time with Nick, he’s been on tour for about half of that year. So it’s really too soon to be living together, right?

Is 11 o’clock in the morning too early to drown oneself in tequila?

Nothing happens for an hour and a half so Nick’s left sitting at his swivel chair, the side of his face plastered to the desktop, getting weird looks from his co-workers that make it seem like they’ve never seen someone having an internal crisis of a domestic nature before. It’s that, or they think it’s odd he’s still here at half 12 on a Friday – it’s probably that.

The phone clutched in Nick’s hand lights up and he almost smacks himself in the face with it trying to sit up too quickly. He stares at it for a moment, telling himself to breathe and cursing the sick feeling that’s just started up in his stomach. “You really shouldn’t be disappointed if he says no,” Nick mutters under his breath, “it was a mistake anyway. God you’re a twat, Grimmy.” 

Nick thumbs at the screens, opening the message and freezes.

_Okay x_

He really wasn’t expecting that. Nick pushes back his chair and bolts to the toilets. Locking himself in a cubicle he dials Harry’s number and presses the phone to his ear. Harry picks up on the second ring and answers with a soft ‘hey’. 

Nick decides to forego a normal greeting and instead lets out a loud, puzzled ‘what?’ cringing when the sound bounces around the small room.

“Okay.” Bless him; he knows exactly what Nick’s ‘what-ing’ and Nick can hear the amusement in his voice. 

“Okay,” Nick echoes, then hangs up before he add something like ‘but just so you know I didn’t mean to say that, so you don’t really have to move in with me.’ He shuffles his feet and flips the lock on the cubicle door from occupied to not then back again. Sitting heavily on the closed lid of the toilet, Nick opens up the new message screen and taps out a text to Aimee.

**I just asked harry to move in he said YES. locked myself in the loo I think I'm about to have a stroke.**

She texts back quickly considering the early hour in New York. _Exciting! I’ve been waiting for this!!_

That makes him think that maybe he’d been waiting for this too? After all you don’t do something subconsciously unless you want it; that would just be messed up if you did. He stares at an obscene limerick someone had started scrawling on the wall in biro and tries to remember all the times he and Harry had talked about the house hunt. 

***

By the time Harry lets himself through the front door Nick is halfway through one of the worst cups of tea he’s ever had in his life – honestly, the milk was probably off, he doesn’t know why he keeps sipping at it.

Harry’s making for the sofa, flopping down with a huff when he gets there. he leans into Nick, fitting their mouths together with a kiss that still gets Nick’s insides to go a bit twisty-turny. Nick presses himself into the kiss for a second before he pulls away, fitting his hands over the curves of Harry’s shoulders and looks him in the eye.

“I need to tell you something,” he winces at how cliché he sounds, and Harry just eyes him curiously. “If don’t do it now we’ll be six months down the track and I’ll end up telling you when I'm terrifically pissed and you’ll move out and then I’ll die of loneliness or heartbreak or something as equally tragic and horrible. Which, by the way, I would rather not happen because I'm kind of really in love with you.” 

Nick takes a moment to breathe, because he probably looks sort of unhinged about now, and gives Harry a chance to say something if he wants. Apparently he doesn’t, instead, he just lifts his hands to wrap fingers around Nick’s forearms and tugs until Nick lets go of the t-shirt fabric he’s clutching to let Harry thread their fingers together. Nick realises he should probably keep talking because the way Harry’s looking at him now make him think that Harry’s expecting Nick to say he’s slept with someone else.

“Right, so when I asked you to move in this morning. It might have been an accident? But I had a good think in the loo -”

“In the loo?” Harry interrupts, eyebrow cocked. His eyes have lost that wary look and Nick feels all at once relieved and slightly miffed that Harry’s questioning his choice of, what is undoubtedly, one of the best thinking spots of all time. 

“Yes, love, the loo. Some of the worlds’ greatest probably did their thinking on the toilet. Not that I was actually using it at the time, I just locked myself in there so I wouldn’t cry in my swivel chair.” Harry lets go of one of Nick’s hands and gently places a palm over his mouth and raises both eyebrows in a look that says ‘get to the point, you’re rambling, you fool’. Nick nods once and Harry takes his hand away. “So I was sitting there wondering if maybe I did it sort of accidentally on purpose because I do want you to move in and I was just being a twat about it. And I ended up thinking about how you’ve been saying how much you hate looking for a place and living by yourself will be shit…” Nick pauses. 

Harry’s eyes get a bit wide and Nick realises he’s figured it out. “Nick-” Harry begins, but Nick cuts him off.

“Living by _yourself_. Harry Styles,” Nick says slowly, his eyes narrowing. He’s mostly doing it just to watch Harry squirm and the boy doesn’t disappoint. “Did you do this? Have I been having a ridiculous panic all afternoon because you pulled a fast one on me?”

Harry looks sheepish but Nick can see him trying to stop his lips from curling into a smile. “Um, I wouldn’t say ‘fast one’ exactly. It did take me a few weeks.”

Taking Harry by surprise Nick pushes him back, pining his wrists to the sofa cushions and settles himself in the gap between the back of the sofa and where Harry’s legs are falling off the edge. “You rat! Why didn’t you just say something?”

“One,” Harry says; testing the hold Nick has on his wrists before relaxing. “Isn’t that just a little hypocritical? And two, I wasn’t sure if you’d want too, I thought maybe if I hinted at it, you’d bring it up. I don’t really know what I'm doing.”

Not for the first time Nick’s reminded of just how young Harry is, he forgets sometimes he’s not even 20 - he’s nearly there but that’s beside the point. Harry’s got an old soul. But for as old as Harry’s soul is, Nick’s still closer to 30 than he is to 20 and sometimes it makes him feel ancient. 

He leans in close to Harry’s face just to watch his eyes cross with the effort to stay focused on him. “And you think I do? Co-habitation is a lot different to having roommates, Harry. I think we’re both in for a treat.”

“So you still want to do it?”

Nick gives him a small smile and presses him lips to Harry’s. “Yeah.” He releases Harry’s wrists to tangle one hand in Harry’s curls while the other skims over his ribs. They stay like that for a time, the soft slid of lips and tongues keeping them happily occupied until Nick pulls back with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice is a bit breathless and he reaches up to hook his fingers in the neck of Nick’s shirt.

“It’s just,” Nick unhooks Harry’s fingers and twines them with his own. “Have you thought about this though? Properly? I mean, we’re not exactly open, but we’re not really a secret either. You know what I mean? We’re an open secret, if you like, and this is going to change things.”

Harry looks up at him at him and squeezes Nick’s hand. “Not an idiot. Like I said, Nick, a few weeks, I’ve thought about this. Anyone that matters should just want me to be happy, and if they can’t deal with it, fuck them.” His sudden smile is bright and blinding, and Nick can’t help but grin back and breathe out a small laugh before he ducks down to press his face to Harry’s neck.

“Moving in with a DJ, whatever will your mother think?” Nick mumbles into the warm skin of Harry’s throat then eases himself down beside Harry, gathering him up and wrapping an arm around his waist.

 

_Fin_


End file.
